


what will we become?

by captainDrC (Alcosta314)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Season/Series 05, Speculation, a random angsty scene really, with no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-02 00:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14532222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcosta314/pseuds/captainDrC
Summary: Clarke paused, then gazed over her shoulder with a sad smile.“Maybe. But we’ll never be what we were before.”He stared, his expression unreadable. A beat, and then--“Maybe I don’t want to be.”





	what will we become?

The door of the church slammed behind him.

“Clarke--”

“I don’t want to hear it.” She crossed her arms, facing away from her. Soft light from outside streamed through the church windows, a contrast to the dark tension in the room. 

“No.” Bellamy said, his voice rough. “Those are our friends out there. And you just want to leave them there?”

“Your friends.”

He sighed, exasperated. “Look, I need your help. And the only way we can do this, is together.”

Clarke clenched her jaw and swallowed, her throat tight. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” 

“Really? You’re willing to let your friends die? Your family?” 

No, she wanted to say. I want to save them, too. But Bellamy was wrong-- Madi was her family now. 

“It’s been six years, Bellamy!” Clarke said, her voice thick. “We aren’t family anymore.”

Bellamy was silent, but she felt his heavy presence behind her. It’s something she’d noticed when he got to the ground. She had always been aware of him, his voice, his movements, and they provided some safety- a familiar comfort beside her as she faced whatever trial challenged her on the ground. But ever since he got back, he just felt foreign, awkward- as if he didn’t belong next to her, and didn’t know what to do with himself when he was. 

“I’m sorry,” his raspy voice rang through the quiet room. “I’m sorry for leaving--”

“God!” she interrupted, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “Don’t you get it? That’s not what this is about.”

She turned to look at him. His eyes were dark and flooded with sadness; he was vulnerable, and hurting, and tragically this, this Bellamy, she knew. Because even when they were torn apart from each other and landed on opposing sides, they always understood each other in this way. 

“Bellamy… I’m glad you left. I’m glad that you all are alive.” she started. “But now you have them, and I have Madi. We can’t keep pretending that we’re fighting for the same thing anymore.”

He looked like he wanted to disagree, he shook his head, but even he could not deny the time that had passed- the priorities that had been shifted. No matter who they loved or how they showed it, they had always fought for their people. And now, with different people to lead, who were they to each other? What would they become?

She looked at him one last time, then set down the book in her hands and turned to leave. As she reached the door, his voice sounded out again. 

“You’ll always be family to me, Clarke. Nothing can change that.”

Clarke paused, then gazed over her shoulder with a sad smile.

“Maybe. But we’ll never be what we were before.”

He stared, his expression unreadable. A beat, and then--

“Maybe I don’t want to be.”

Clarke stared.

“What-- what do you mean?”

He drew in a shaky breath and looked down. Stepped forward, and glanced back up at her.

“Did you ever think,” he started. “that we could be more?”

Of course she did-- how was that even a question? When she lay awake those first nights after Praimfaya, or on the brink of death a few months later, or even as she stroked Madi’s hair lovingly a few weeks before, Clarke always imagined Bellamy there, next to her. Not as a co-leader or even as a partner-- but as her friend, her person, her’s. And even though he wasn’t there, she had still felt his presence. He was everything she had wanted and couldn’t have, so of course she had thought, she had desperately yearned, to have more. 

“I… Yes,” she breathed. 

He stepped closer. “And what about now?” he said softly, his voice low. 

She searched his eyes-- they were dark as he stared into hers. He had a bruise on his cheek and patchy beard covering his jaw, and maybe she didn’t know him much anymore, maybe it had been six years, but she wanted-- oh, she wanted. 

“I still do.”

His eyes turned hopeful, and for a second she forgot the threat of Eligius, the impossible task of uncovering the bunker, Echo. Echo- shit, she forgot about Echo.

She stepped back suddenly, blinking, and he looked confused, hurt. “Wait-- we can’t. You and Echo are--”

“Over,” Bellamy interrupted.

She startled. “What?” How had she not heard about that?

He lowered his gaze and fingered the ends of his sleeves. “She said that we would never work on the ground. She was right, it couldn’t-- not when you’re here.”

Clarke tensed. Bellamy wasn’t the one to break it up. It had only been, what-- three weeks since he reached the ground? He probably still loved Echo, what they had. Would Clarke just be a comfort? An intimacy born from hardship, a rekindled relationship brought a step further to deal with the war on the ground? She and Bellamy never existed together in peace-- what if conflict was their only tether? What if, once the war was over, she wasn’t the one he wanted?

Clarke sighed. Made up her mind. Her heart could take never having something real with Bellamy, but she wasn’t sure it could handle knowing what it’d be like, only to have it ripped away. 

She shook her head sadly. “Then this isn’t going to work.”

Bellamy drew back, confused. “What? Why not?”

“Because…” Clarke began. “You’ve moved on. You’ve lived six years without me, Bellamy. Being on the ground again… you’re just falling back into old habits.”

“Old habits? That’s what you think this is?” he rasped.

“Yes.” Clarke forced out, setting her jaw and tilting her chin up. Maybe she was being selfish-- pushing him away to protect her own heart. But this was protecting him too. She saw him, when he first came down, he was happy. Fearing for her life, worried about his sister, and anxious at the threat of Eligius, yes, but there was a certain peace about him that Clarke had never seen on the ground. And it seemed that as the days passed, he slowly darkened, a chaos inside of him slowly grew, and the calm slowly broke down. If she was just a part of his past, another broken piece of the ground to remind him of what he was, of what he had done, maybe it was best if she pushed him away. Maybe it was best for them both if they never remembered what they were to each other or thought of what they could be. 

Bellamy clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated. He opened his mouth to respond, but Clarke continued before he could.

“We’ve both changed so much. We’re not the same people.” Her voice cracked. “And this?” she gestured hopelessly between them. “This is just familiar. Like I said before, it’s been six years. And it doesn’t matter what I want, or what you think you want, because the reality is you knew me for eight months, so we can’t keep pretending like we belong to each other.”

Clarke felt a stinging in her eyes and looked away. She didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to see what she was doing. 

“You’re right.” 

She jerked her head back to him, confused. His eyes were glassy, but alit with something she couldn’t place. 

“I don’t belong to you, and you don’t belong to me.” he continued. “But you’re wrong if you think that we have changed. Us. And yes, it has been six years but… Clarke, I could never forget you, what you meant to me. Time couldn’t erase that. And neither will pushing me away.” 

Clarke felt a stinging in her eyes and forced her gaze away. God, she wanted this-- him. But the divide between them was too expansive. Their people were not the same. And she never wanted to have to choose between Bellamy and Madi; she never wanted to even consider that a choice. Yet, here she was, pushing back her love for Bellamy because if anything could make her doubt her focus on Madi’s safety it was him-- and she couldn’t let that happen. Bellamy always had a way with words, a way to her heart, but that made him dangerous. Maybe at a different time, maybe in peace, things could be different. But in war, who they were to each other, and who they had to be were different. And he had to accept that, same as her. 

Clarke inhaled deeply, setting her shoulders and gathering up what little courage she had left. She stepped forward, meeting Bellamy’s eyes with a piercing gaze.

“You aren’t going to change my mind about this. So I’ll say it again, I’m sorry. But I won’t help you.”

Clarke brushed by him before she could see his expression, before she could witness a reaction that would make her face the fact that she wasn’t as strong as she wanted to be. She opened the door and stepped heavily down the steps, willing her eyes to stop tearing and her heart to stop pounding frantically. 

Why? Why did she have to torture herself like this? Why did she have to torture him?  
Thoughts of regret bounced around in her mind, and part of her just wanted to say to hell with it and save her friends, stop the killing, and be with Bellamy. But as she neared the rover where she could see the sleeping form of Madi curled inside, those pangs subsided. 

This. This is why.

**Author's Note:**

> This started from a short drabble that I decided to continue because apparently, I like torturing myself with Bellarke angst. (Also, absolutely no thought went into constructing a plot, sorry)


End file.
